Tom Riddle's Forbidden Romance
by gretapinata
Summary: Tom Riddle loves Celeste, but she is a Gryffindor and he is a Slytherin! How will he get what he wants, and how did this romance lead up to his heartless, murderous ways?
1. Chapter 1

**A Harry Potter FanFic**

Featuring Tom Riddle (6th year)  
and introducing Celeste Montague of Beauxbaton's -  
_**My first ever - please review.**_

* * *

Chapter One

The Tom Riddle of 16 years assembled with his classmates from Slytherin in the entrance hall. They were all discussing their summers - a conversation during which Tom stayed quiet and subdued. In fact, it was a good chance to plot harmless tricks and pranks to play on the first-years... a pastime that he enjoyed heartily, especially as he never ever was caught or even suspected of involvement. However, after a few good pranks, the idea became lame to Tom as he gained no credit for his handiwork. Nevertheless, he enjoyed watching the first-years squeal in shock or horror. And a new bunch this year! How splendid it would be to give them a 'proper' hogwarts welcome, or perhaps a slitherin 'ritual' to make the new ones seem... at home...

"Tom? What about you? Meet any pretty muggles over your summer?"

It was Randall, notorious for his interest in feminine beauty. His antics had gained him quite a dishonorable reputation at Hogwarts, but he was an asset to Tom. Randall had great knowlegde concerning jinxes and curses, and had perfected many a love potion or sleeping draught. Although naughty, he was a very bright boy, and full of the Slytherin spirit: Gryffindors are scum.

"Oh." Tom began, flashing the boys a dazzling smile. "That would be between Lilabel and I." Of course Lilabel was a fictional character, but Tom found no guilt in lies.

The boys began to hoot and dance around like monkeys, firing questions at him with eager eyes.

"So you had it on with a muggle, then"  
"Was she really into you, or did you slip a love potion into her pumpkin juice"  
"What was she like"  
"Was she a blonde one, or a brunette"  
"Did you show her any magic?"

Tom grinned. "Not 'hogwarts' kind of magic..."

The group erupted into laughter and fits of gorrilla-like noises, and would have bombarded Tom with crude questions had the doors not opened at that precise moment, revealing the great hall. As usual, four tables lined the hall, and floating candles eluminated this room of the large castle better than a Lumos charm. The teachers - all except for Professor MaGonagal, who was ushering the large mass of students into the hall - were seated behind a grand table at the back. Dumbledore was a small smudge of emerald green and brilliant white, standing behind an ornamental lecturn, beaming positively with rays of sunshine and excitement.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. He was home again, back to the place where nobody looked down at him. Even the teachers treated him as if some holy idol. Here he was respected. Here he was welcome.

The 6th-year Slytherin boys took a seat at their house table and the conversation broke off into small sections as they met up with people that hadn't been seen in ages. Tom found himself next to Will, a boy from ireland who made some good galleons trading forbidden goods from hogsmeade to fellow slytherins - or even hufflepuffs and ravenclaws, if trusted, but never gryffindors - for a lumpy price. On Tom's other side was a younger girl with green eyes and wavy black hair, a very pretty thing named Elle. Tom turned to her and flashed her a dazzling smile that left Elle battling for oxygen.

The hall was silenced as Dumbledore raised his arms, so that they emerged from the sleeves by a fair few inches. His brilliant eyes, magnified by crescent-moon glasses, were alight with eagerness. He began to speak.

"Welcome, Welcome! All of you have travelled a long way to return here tonight, so all I will say is a few words - blubber, tibble and sqap!"

The first-years were taken aback by their headmaster's idea of a few words, and under Professor MaGonagal's instruction proceeded to be sorted into their houses.

Tom watched as slytherin gained a beefy boy with a slick haircut, a tiny girl with a rat in her pocket, another girl with beady eyes and a boy with rather large teeth.

Dumbledore spoke again. "How exciting this is! But, you must all be famished! Now you may eat!"

And at once the empty dishes filled with food and the jugs and glasses with pumpkin juice. There were slices of roast beef, chicken drumsticks, potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pasties, peas and salads. The students greedily began to load their plates with food, but Tom, who was never too hungry, reached for and apple and began to eat slowly.

As he ate, his eyes scanned the great hall and wandered over to the teacher's table. On the very end, there was a girl in a blue silk uniform. She was, without doubt, the most beautiful thing Tom had ever seen. He hadn't ever felt this feeling before - he genuinely wanted to go and talk to her, befriend her, entrust her with secrets. But as the girl returned his gaze, quite by chance, Tom immediately averted his eyes and began a random conversation about Quidditch.

Later, after the crumbs of dessert had been licked clean from the plates, Dumbledore began a new speech. This was repeated most years - forbidden prank items will be confiscated by Mr Filch, anyone who ventures into the Dark Forest after hours will be punished, new teacher for such-and-such-a-subject and new head boy and girl.

"And lastly, but definately not least," Dumbledore announced, "Some of you may have noticed a student at the teacher's table. This year, we have begun a student exchange program with our sisters at Beaxbaton School of Witchcraft. I now have the pleasure to introduce Miss Celeste Montague, who I expect will be treated like a fellow student of Hogwarts. She will sleep in the Gryffindor Girl's Chambers with the 6th Years, and I will have Proffessor Magonagal assign somebody to show her to class. That is all I have to say - and I'm sure you are all itching to snuggle up in your dormitories - so, go! Go and have a good night of rest as your classes start first-thing tomorrow."

The hall was filled with the sound of benches scraping against the floor as the mass of students began to meander back to their corridors. Tom joined his peers and descended the steps into the dungeon.

"Hi, Tom!" called a smooth, familiar voice. Tom turned and put on a welcoming smile as a young Bellatrix LeStrange lept into his arms. Although this closeness caused Tom to cringe inside, he patted her fondly on the shoulder - just to keep up appearences. He didn't care for Bellatrix - the reason he kept her so close was her wickedness, a trait Tom found useful. They shared a passion for the dark arts and often sat during free periods discussing forbidden topics such as the unforgivable curses, and the secrets of dark magic no adult would willingly talk about.

"Hello, Bellatrix. How was your summer?" He cooed as she jumped back with a wicked grin. They began to walk side by side into the common room, which was filled with excited buzzing.

"Fascinating." she said, and then quickly checked for eavesdroppers. They leant closer towards each other and Bellatrix whispered, "I stole one of my great uncle's books on experimental curses. He's so mad, he won't notice. I though we could try some out on unsuspecting first-years!" Bellatrix let out a menacing cackle, and to be polite, Tom laughed too.

"I best be off." she said.

"Oh, yes. Good night, Bellatrix." Tom farewelled, though he did not care at all should Bellatrix have a good night or bad. In fact, he did not care for anyone. To him, his peers were like tools that he had been given the task of sharpening.

But as Tom glided gracefully up the stairs to his Dormitory, where Randall and Will would be waiting, he couldn't help but hope the Beauxbaton's student, Celeste, would sleep well. It was strange for him, to genuinely want to befriend someone, show them around Hogwarts to places she would otherwise miss. He would be a good friend for her, even if she was sleeping in the same room as filthy Gryffindoor blood traitors and muddies. He screwed up his nose at this as if smelling a stinky shoe. A new kind of excitment came when he realized that he might be able to persuade her to come over to Slytherin's side. Yes, that was a good idea.

But anything - and everything - had to wait until morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom Riddle - the untold tale of his forbidden friendship

Chapter Two

The hall was electric with enthusiasm the next morning as students ate breakfast whilst discussing their new timetables.

"Oh, no." sighed Will. "We have a double charms class this afternoon. That midget Flitwick has been giving me terribly unfair marks since I slipped a sleeping draught in his tea, and he started snoring right in the middle of a staff meeting."

The boys laughed, but gaged Tom's reaction first. They always wanted to appear their best in front of him, and that sometimes meant stifling smirks and chuckles if Tom found something pathetic or irrelevant. But Tom was grinning, so they laughed freely.

"Well I've got potions with Professor Slughorn first." Tom said. "I'll probably get an invite to one of his gatherings. Perhaps I should get some of his favourite Crystallized Pineapple from Hogsmeade next weekend."

"Thats all very well for you. Slughorn adores you, Tom. But if you read closer, you'll see we share potions with those filthy, pathetic Gryffindors."

Tom's heart skipped a beat, but he tried to cover his excitement with a well-rehearsed scowl. Then he busied himself cutting up a bit of bacon, trying not to let his eyes wander over to the other side of the hall where Celeste sat surrounded by Gryffindors, eating delicately.

Will got up from his seat. "I'm going to head off to Potions, Tom. Are you coming?"

Tom considered declining the offer, then waiting on the other side of the door, greeting Celeste as she came through, offering to guide her to the dungeons... yes. That was good. And it would simply be polite of him to do so... nothing more, if not need be.

"I'll follow you there. Go butter up Slughorn for me - I want to ask him about something. I'll need help."

Will nodded and darted off to the dungeons. After a minute or so, Tom excused himself and went off to wait by the doors.

Soon enough, Celeste arose from the table with a french farewell, and floated - how graceful and beautiful she looked, even if dressed in the Gryffindor robes - towards Tom. A girl was at her side, but Celeste looked eager to get away - the girl was talking non-stop about random nonsense.

She was approaching. Tom was dizzied by her scent, but he was in control. He steadied himself, and then took a step in front of her.

Celeste blinked and smiled pleasantly. She found this strange young man very intriguing and found his appearance very appealing - but that was hardly unusual. Tom Riddle had this effect on people.

"Hello," Tom began, with a nod of his head. He was casually leaning against a large gargoyle, smiling. "I'm Tom, and I believe we are both on our way to the dungeons for potions. Would you like me to show you the way?"

Celeste beamed and opened her mouth to speak, but the girl next to her beat her to it.

"Actually, I was just about to do that myself. That's my job, you see." The girl was annoyed.

Celeste didn't look at the girl. "Oh, but zis would be a wonderful opportunity for me to meet new people! If ze offer is still on, then I accept with gratitude."

Tom bowed. "Of course."

Celeste stepped forward and they linked arms. Unlike the closeness Bellatrix sometimes had with Tom, this felt nice. Very nice indeed.

As they began to walk - the girl left behind, hands on hips - Celeste began to talk.

"My name is Celeste." she said.

Tom laughed. "Oh, I know."

"Right - of course you would know zis." she slapped her head playfully. "And... you are in Slytherin?"

"Yes, I am. And you have been put into the Gryffindor house for your stay. How are you finding it?"

Celeste lowered her voice - now they were walking through dark corridors - and looked at Tom with wide eyes. Her gaze dazzled Tom. But he was not obvious enough to let anything show. "I hear zat you Slytherins are not very friendly towards ze Gryffindors."

"And in return, the Gryffindors are not at all friendly towards the Slytherins. It is just the way things are, and have been for hundreds of years since the founding of Hogwarts."

They had stopped now - Celeste was gripping Tom's arm and staring at him, puzzled.

"Then won't zose Slytherin friends of yours disapprove of your escorting me?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm just doing a good deed." He made to keep walking, but Celeste would not budge and inch.

"Zen... you are telling me zat zis has nothing to do with your liking me?"

Tom's heart stopped and fell to the floor. But he picked it up, brushed it off and put it back into place. He and Celeste were now alone in the dungeons, incredibly close. Despite the fact a dripping noise could be heard and the place had an eerie green glow, Tom felt like there was no better place in the universe.

"I never said that was or wasn't the case." he replied with a cheeky grin.

Celeste blushed and opened her mouth again...

"HEY TOM!" called Will. He had appeared from the end of the corridor. "Are you coming or what?"

Tom turned to face his friend, Celeste close by. Will approached slowly, and then his mouth dropped open to form a wide, gaping hole.

"Is that a Gryffindor? Tom, be careful - don't stand so close!"

Tom stood forward. "It's nobody. She just came up to me... I... I was just helping her find the potions class room."

"Well I don't need your help anyway." Celeste snapped, brushing past Tom and almost knocking him off his feet. She set off at a brisk pace down the corridor and disappeared, mumbling angrily in french.

Tom felt like sinking to his knees and sobbing into the mouldy mossy floor - but could not. He was well practised at hiding his feelings, and pulled off a incoherent "Thanks."

"Tom," Will began. "You can't just go around helping Gryffindors. It gives off the wrong message."

"Right." Tom nodded slowly.

"I mean... Merlin's beard - we're Slytherins, for pete's sake!"

Of course, Tom told himself. She was no less a Gryffindor than he a Slytherin. What had he been hoping for, truly?


	3. Chapter 3

A Harry Potter FanFic Featuring Tom Riddle (6th year)  
and introducing Celeste Montague of Beauxbaton's -  
please review - otherwise I'll stop posting. :O -----------------------------------------

Chapter Three

The parchment on which Tom Riddle was supposed to write an essay about the life cycle of the Venemous Tentacular was eerily blank. It seemed all Tom had done for the past hour-and-fifteen-minutes was stare at it, his mind off wandering through the dungeon corridors, where he could feel her on his arm, smell her hair, gaze helplessly into her eyes.

Before Tom knew it, he had fallen asleep beside the fireplace. Only tiny, flickers of flames remained, and all the Slytherins had long since retired for bed. So there was nobody to shake his shoulder, and free him from the land of dangerous dreams.

In his dream, Will hadn't appeared in the corner, shouting anti-Gryffindor remarks and things like 'keeping up appearances'. In fact, none of that mattered. Instead, Celeste and Tom, arms linked, wandered aimlessly throughout the dungeons, becoming irrevocably lost. None of that mattered either.

Celeste was talking freely about her mother back in France, her pathetic cat Franco and her little brother Gabriel. And for the first time, Tom began to speak of his past. The horrors, the unhappiness. The history, every little detail. And it felt good, to reveal his soul to this girl, who simply nodded and soothed. She always understood.

And then, inevitably, the topic of house rivalry would surface. And Tom would say, "To be honest, I couldn't care less about that."

And then they were embracing, kissing each others lips. Celeste wrapped her arms around Tom's neck and he ran his fingers through her hair. He traced her jawline with his fingers, and Celeste would marvel at how soft they were. This was what mattered, Tom thought in his dreams. Celeste.

But then, suddenly, the beautiful dream turned into a nightmare. Celeste would screech, "I don't need you! I don't want you! You're just another cruel and pathetic Slytherin!"

And she would storm off, leaving Tom to awaken from his slumber with a start. As the scene of the Slytherin Common Room came into view, Tom noticed a face only a half-metre or so away from his, and a hand on his shoulder. He cringed, as his eyes focused on Bellatrix.

"Good heavens, Tom." she murmered. "I came down to get my letter-writing kit and you were screaming yourself hoarse."

Tom straightened himself up. "I... I was?"

Bellatrix looked concerned. "Are you alright? You're even paler than usual. Do you want me to take you to Madame Pomfrey? Merlin's beard, Tom! Stop shaking!"

Tom managed to pull himself together. "I'm fine, Bellatrix. You should go to bed now."

And with that, he picked up his parchment and quil, and ascended the stone steps to his dormitory.

By morning, Tom had convinced himself that it wasn't going to bother him anymore. Just thinking of her had already cost him one night of study and homework.

To keep his mind off things, he sat on the opposite side of the table that faced the wall, and engaged in a lively conversation about an upcoming quidditch match. Finally, something he could focus on quite happily. Tom played seeker for the Slytherins, and had done so since third year. He was extremely nimble and quick on a broomstick, and preferred it to any other form of transportation.

And the upcoming match would be against their rivals, Gryffindor. It would do him good to drill some disappointment into their heads.

After class, Tom grabbed his quidditch robes and broomstick to meet his team for a quick training session. His arrival was very well recieved - Eddie and Hector, the beaters, practically bowed as he passed, and Josephine - a very unattractive keeper - blushed heavily and managed a feeble, "Hiya, Tom."

As Tom kicked off and began to ascend into the clouds, he felt all his troubles remain behind on the ground. Up in his element, nothing - not even his ruined opportunity with Celeste - bother him.

But there was something he didn't know. 


	4. Chapter 4

A Harry Potter FanFic Featuring Tom Riddle (6th year)  
and introducing Celeste Montague of Beauxbaton's -  
please review - otherwise I'll stop posting. :O -----------------------------------------

Chapter Four

"Hey, Tom. That was a good training session you did just now. I think we'll be right for this saturday's match." Declan Webber, the captain, said.

"I agree." Tom replied. "Let's just hope the conditions are... playable."

Declan chuckled. "Yes. Oh, by the way - you won't be playing seeker against that stupid Jenkins. He's recovering from a nasty Doxy bite."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "So who am I playing against? Not Franklin I hope, he's a joke-"

"No, not Franklin. That Montague girl from Beaubatons put 'er hand up for it. The Gryffindors have been boasting about her all week."

Tom nearly fell over. But Webber continued.

"I snuck into their training session, Tom, and watched her play. She's good. Very. But you, Tom, are the best. Just keep your wits about you, and you'll catch the snitch for us. Seeya Saturday."

"...oh, yes. Saturday."

Tom cursed under his breath as he trudged back up to his dormitory. As he collapsed on his bed, at wits end - Will appeared at his side.

"You're not okay."

"Yes I am."

"That wasn't a question."

"Well do me a favour and don't ask any more."

"I never asked one in the first place." Will retorted, annoyed. "Aren't you getting changed? Old Slughorn will give you a hard time if you don't change."

Of course. Slughorn's 'Welcome Back' party. If he wanted to stay in Sluggy's good books, he had better head off as soon as possible. Without another word - but plenty of distant thoughts - Tom opened his trunk and changed into muggle clothes. It was a friday night, he didn't have to wear robes.

Bellatrix was waiting in the common room. She had her hair out, as black as the midnight skies. They began to walk.

"Took you long enough."

"I got caught up at Quidditch practise."

"Aren't you going to tell me what you were dreaming about last night?"

"No."

Bellatrix pouted, and the two continued in silence. When they reached the door of Slughorn's office, Bellatrix opened her mouth.

"Please, not a single word." Tom said, beating her to it. "After you, Bellatrix."

They entered the office without another word. Slughorn was handing pumpkin pasties out to a selection of students sitting in a semi-circle around his favourite armchair. At Tom's appearance, he forgot to give a small ginger-haired boy a pumpkin pastie and practically skipped to pull up Tom a chair.

"Tom! M'boy! How splendid to see you here! And Miss LeStrange, always a pleasure to have you. Sit, sit. I've got surprises for the both of you!"

As Tom did as he was told, he noticed with a heart-stopping jolt who he had just sat next to. Celeste Montague, with her lips pouted and arms crossed. He made to speak with her, but Slughorn addressed him first.

"Tom, I know you are bound for the ministy," he began. "A leader - yes, it's in your very aura. I expect you will be appointed Head Boy next year - I have no doubt."

Tom nodded modestly. "Oh please, Professor. There is no way of telling."

"Poppycock, Tom! I knew you were destined for greatness the moment I laid eyes on you in first year. Now - down to business..."

Tom was zombielike in his responses for the rest of the night, and when Bellatrix left hurriedly without him, he was hardly surprised. However, he lingered as long as he could so as to snatch a moment with Celeste.

As she passed through the doorway into the dungeon corridor, Tom appeared at her side.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. "Seeing as you obviously don't want to help me. You made zat pretty clear when I last saw you."

Tom looked at his shoes. "I am really, very, truly sorry about that." he began. "You have no idea how much I have regretted that over the past week."

"No. I don't." She replied, although she had softened up somewhat. Tom looked up into her eyes. They were alone once more.

"I haven't done this before," he began sheepishly. "So I really don't know what I'm doing."

Celeste narrowed her eyes and turned her head slightly sideways. "What are you talking about?"

Tom took a deep breath and stepped closer. "Celeste." he said. "I can't stop thinking about what I said, and the more I wonder why, well... it only leads to one conclusion."

Celeste looked up at him and tried not to break into a smile. Her loathing for this boy was nearly flattened by admiration... and attraction. She couldn't properly concentrate when he was simply so... beautiful. His pale, smooth skin, and deep grey-blue eyes... and that hair! Slicked back with a few strands falling across his face. Celeste took a deep breath.

"I like you, Celeste." Tom sighed. "And I don't care that I'm meant to hate your guts."

Celeste blushed and smiled, putting her arm on Tom's. But she could not give up so easily. She sighed.

"How am I to beleive zis? How am I to beleive you care more for me zan for your reputation?"

And with that, Celeste turned around and began to walk off, her heart secretly fluttering, her hands shaking with nerves and excitement.

"What does that mean?" Tom called after her. "What do I do now?"

But it was useless. She had already disappeared, and after seconds apart, Tom stared to ache. He had never ever felt fond of anyone, and this sudden burst of extreme attraction took him by surprise. As the seconds started to tick away, Tom returned to his dormitory and went to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

A Harry Potter FanFic Featuring Tom Riddle (6th year)  
and introducing Celeste Montague of Beauxbaton's -  
please review - otherwise I'll stop posting. :O -----------------------------------------

Chapter 5

Sun streamed through the windows on Saturday morning as Tom woke up and got dressed into his quidditch robes. There was an excited buzz in the Slytherin common room as he passed through on his way to breakfast. People he didn't really know were patting him on the shoulder, whispering experimental tactics or advice in his ear. Bellatrix seemed to have forgotten that she was supposed to be annoyed at him - but she couldn't resist Tom for long, and soon as saw him bounced up and said "Good morning".

"If that Montague girl gives you any trouble on the pitch today," she began, causing Tom to choke on his pumpkin juice, "I'll perform a wicked leg-locker curse on her so she won't be able to get off her broom."

"Oh, Bellatrix. This is why you are such a good friend." Tom lied, not caring less.

Bellatrix grinned and dug into her toast.

The whole Slytherin table was a sea of green and black - tall witches and wizards hats that chanted "Gryffindor eats mud", hand-knitted scarves, binoculars with snakes carved into the handle... this was what Tom loved about Slytherin. The way they always got behind their housemates.

The rest of the morning was a blur in which Tom was thinking, always, of Celeste. What would she look like, covered in gold and maroon? Would her hair billow in the wind, and how would she grip her broom? What if she was better than him? Or what if he was to catch the snich and inch before she could have? What would she think of him? But if it happened the other way around, how would he appear to everyone?

"Are you ready for a big game, Tom?" asked Webber, the captain. He was looking excited - probably thinking about ways to crush Gryffindor bones.

"Sure, sure." Tom replied. He didn't really know what he meant by "Sure, sure."

"Excellent." Webber said. "Conditions are perfect as long as you don't have to fly into the sun."

"Lets hope not."

Webber turned to the team. "Okay, let's go!"

The Slythering beaters grinned and cracked their knuckles, before the team grabbed their brooms and headed off to the pitch.

"Remember," Webber recounted, "Play dirty if you need to."

Of course, Slytherin had a reputation for playing dirty. Tom laughed a little - it was something they didn't need reminding. But then he thought of Celeste - he couldn't push her off her broom, or sandwitch her into the stands. He wouldn't be able to stomach the sight of her, passed out on the bottom of the pitch. What was he going to do? Butterflies turned somersaults in his stomach.

Madame Hooch, with her wiry hair and wide, keen eyes, mounted her broom as the teams aligned, facing their opponant. Celeste stood in front of Tom. Her hair was only partially tied back, and her cheeks and lips were ruby colored in the chilly, yet sunny, grounds. They looked at each other only momentarily before Madame Hooch pressed her lips to the official whistle and the game began.

Tom kicked off and began to fly into the sky, where he then stopped mid-air to have a scout for the snitch. Celeste was circling the Gryffindor goals, her eyes furrowed in concentration.

Tom was, on the other hand, very distracted. Even from the other side of the pitch she radiated beauty and grace, with a calming sense of simplicity - she never had to try, she would simply succeed.

And that was when the sun caught the side of the golden snitch, sending a glint of light through Tom's eyes. He dived instinctively towards it, but it was too fast and Tom was now chasing it around the pitch in time with "Ooohs" and "Aaahs" from the croud.

Celeste appeared at Tom's side, concentrated on the snitch. Wind was whistling in their ears and their hair was rippling behind them. Tom had to use some effort to tear his eyes of Celeste's amazing flying skill and focus on the prize that would gain Slytherin a brilliant 150 points.

It all happened in slow motion then, although in memory it seemed very quick - the Slytherin beater hit the bludger high into the air, and Celeste noticed a second to late to react - it made impact with the side of her face, and soon she was falling through the air. Tom's fingers were so close to the snitch he could almost feel it, but he couldn't let her fall like that, unconsious, whilst he won the game playing Slytherin's hero.

No. Being Slytherin's hero would not bring him any satisfaction. He needed to be Celeste's hero.

So he abandoned the chase and began a deep nosedive. He was gaining on Celeste's falling body fast, and almost instinctively, he clasped his arm around her waist, pulled her close to his chest mid-air and slowed until his feet touched the ground.

Celeste didn't stir as he gently set her down on the ground, kneeling beside her and holding her hand. The school had become deadly quiet - Gryffindor was in awe, Slytherin disgusted, the teachers on their feet and the two teams suspended in the air. Nothing could be heard except for Madame Hooch's footsteps. She picked Celeste off the ground and turned to walk away, before pausing and staring at Tom with a puzzled yet fond expression.

"What you've done here today surprised us all," Madame Hooch said. "I don't know what to say, Tom."

And then Dumbledore's voice could be heard over the loudspeaker, announcing that the game would be postponed until further notice.

The teams left, annoyed, the houses confused. Tom followed Celeste into the hospital wing. 


End file.
